Primeal Scream
by Cynlee
Summary: Don's not the ONLY smart turtle... one small bad word in it, btw.


_I swear, Inspiration strikes at the oddest times. Anyway, just a bit of fun. TMNT do not belong to me. Neither does Transformers.  
_

_EDIT: 2/11/10-- It's come to my attention that one of the "NOOOOOOOOO!" has vanished. I am fixing this. This is not the first time it appears some of my stories have things missing. I hope that anyone reading the old stuff will not think I'm careless._

**Prime-al Scream**

"Seriously, Don, it's true!"

Don stood in the huge underground chamber that served as their new garage and the home of his major projects, staring in disbelief at the oil-covered, tool-wielding brother before him.

Despite the lighting system, it seemed rather dark in there. Perhaps there was a brownout somewhere? Don kept blinking his eyes, staring around at the familiar and wondering what was wrong.

Mikey. THAT was what was wrong.

Mikey, who was excellent at destroying things, stood in front of an oddly colorful Battle Shell, grinning through the grease and grime on his face. Don's precious babies-- tools, rather-- were scattered here and there and yet NOT mistreated or broken or otherwise looking as if they'd been part of an attempt to play a practical joke on Raph.

"But Mikey, what you're saying is IMPOSSIBLE!" Don came back to the topic at hand. "You can't--- you simply CAN'T have made--"

"Watch and learn, oh formerly most cleverest of Ninja Turtles," Mike replied, turning around and facing Don's precious Battle Shell. "TRANSFORM!"

A sudden jerk, and the Battle Shell, with much grinding of gears and loud impressive hydraulic sounds deafening the two, began to slowly unfold, as if some origami version of their ride was opening up to its original paper shape-- Don stood half in awe, half in disbelief, as the machine rose higher and higher. He feared for the roof of the chamber, but it seemed to still be intact.

Finally, standing before them was the Battle Shell-- looking like some strange and colorful robot turtle! Red and blue paint glistened in the dimly lit room; the "head" of the 'bot gazed down at them as if contemplating these strange creatures at its feet.

"See? See? Seeseeseeseeseeseesee?" Mikey's hypervoice broke through the numbness that had encased Donatello's senses, snapping him back to reality. "Isn't it wicked cool? Can you imagine how much Foot butt we can kick with this baby?"

The mad scientist gleam that spilled from the usually warm and friendly eyes of Michelangelo startled Don more than what had just transformed before his very own orbs. Mike was rubbing his hands in glee, staring up and down at his creation as if he would never tire of looking at it.

"And Stockman is gonna-- well, I WAS gonna say 'shit his pants' over this, but considering he's just a brain in a container of fluid in his own robot body... well, he's not going to be HAPPY, that's for sure, especially when he learns that I was the one to build this!"

Don's ego was beginning to panic. He could feel the pressure to deny this apparition verbally building in his chest, like the steam in a boiling kettle of water just waiting to burst forth with its warning whistle...

"And what's even better, it has A.I.!" Mikey gloated! "I was reading John McCarthy's original proposal--"

"JOHN MCCARTHY?" Don's voice was loud and echoey and full of overwhelming shock. "John McCarthy? THE John McCarthy?"

Mike and the Robot exchanged looks, then glanced back to Don, whose face was threatening to become as purple as his mask.

"Yeah, you know, the guy who coined the term 'artificial intelligence'?" Mikey replied in an annoying tone usually used by some when addressing small ignorant Turtles. "Anyway, I had a few questions, so I found his e-mail addie on his web page, and he replied back to my queries! And THIS is the result!" And he dramatically gestured to the transformed Battle Shell, who bowed slightly.

Don's brain wasn't taking all of this in-- Mikey had transformed the Battle Shell-- Mikey was e-mail pals with John McCarthy, the father of A.I.-- Mikey was using HIS tools-- Mikey--

"I was going to call him 'Tortimus Prime'," Mikey fondly said, gazing once again at his new friend. "but I though that would be too 'fanboy'. So he chose his own name, didn't you?"

"YES, MICHELANGELO," the deep voice of the robot nearly caused Don to jump out of his shell. It sounded familiar-- and HUMAN-- _NO! Mikey could NOT BE THAT INTELLIGENT!_ "MY NAME IS 'FLUFFY'."

Don's eyes could not get any bigger. The fact that the 'bot and his brother were now both laughing like idiots at some sort of joke was the icing on the cake.

"SERIOUSLY, I WISH TO BE CALLED CHELYDRAN. WHEN CAN I MEET THE REST OF THE FAMILY?"

"Right away!" Mikey beamed. C'mon! Let's go surprise them all!"

And Don watched as the two walked away from him into the dark, rooted to the spot, unable to move. His feet felt as if he'd been glued to the floor.... he couldn't move... he felt trapped, and the pressure to scream was once again building inside his chest. He kept trying to call out to Mikey and Chelydran to wait, to let him catch up with them...

... to help him.....

"My SON!" he heard Splinter's surprised voice echoing back from the living room out of the dark. "My SON! How very INTELLIGENT of you! Even MORE intelligent than Donatello!"

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

Mikey looked over at Don, who had rolled off the couch with a startled thump. Don sat, stunned, sweating, panting, (crying), trying to refocus on where he was, trying to reconcile his brain to the fact that he was in the living room, being stared at by Mikey and Master Splinter. On the TV was yet another commercial for "Transformers". Don noted the spilled popcorn... yeah... yeah... they'd been watching late-night movies... and they'd been pigging out on snack foods... and he'd not had any sleep for 24 hours because he'd been working on programing the new truck... 'cause the Battle Shell was destroyed... and... and...

"Are you quite all right, my son?" Splinter kindly asked, helping him up off the floor. "Perhaps you should go to bed."

"Yeah, I'm okay, Sensei," he nodded-- and kept nodding-- then he fixed his brother with a piercing gaze. "Mikey! Who is John McCarthy?"

Mikey's face scrunched up in his "thinking" mode.

"Uh..... Oh, yeah! He's one of the Beatles! I think.... yeah, I'm almost certain he's one of the Beatles. Why? Do I get a prize?"

Don, with a HUGE sigh of relief, shook his head and slumped into the couch.

No one spoke for a few minutes. Mikey channel-surfed, Splinter kept a wary eye on Donatello, and Don simply sprawled back on the couch, eyes closed, smiling and nodding to himself and repeatedly muttering something about "nightmare", "impossible", and "one of the Beatles".

"Hey, Don!" Mikey's voice suddenly snapped Don's eyes back open. "April thinks she can get us into the theater to see 'Transformers' this week! Wanna go?"

Don stared at Mikey, and started to reply.... and froze in terror!

"CHELYDRAN can take us in style," Mike continued, as the gigantic robot stepped from the shadows and waved.

Don's head threatened to spin off his neck, it snapped back and forth between Mikey, the robot, and Splinter so quickly.

"I am looking forward to going," Splinter smiled, gazing with affection at the huge machine. "You have certainly been a blessing to this family, Chelydran-san."

"DOMO ARIGATO, SENSEI," came the reply.

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

For a second time Don hit the floor, falling off of the couch. Splinter and Mike both stared at him.

Don, shamefaced, got up, bowed to Splinter, muttered " 'night Sensei", and hurried off to his room, where he locked himself in and hid under the covers, too afraid to close his eyes.

Mikey shook his head at the retreating back of his brother.

"I warned him not to let Raph spice up the burritos," he nodded sagely. "He always has nightmares afterwards."

Then he smiled as he continued to play with his new Transformers© toy.


End file.
